


This Bipolar Love Affair

by dugindeep (hotsauce)



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-06
Updated: 2012-08-06
Packaged: 2017-11-11 13:51:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/479216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hotsauce/pseuds/dugindeep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen tends bar at a local hangout that stays open too late and never has anything good happen in it - bad hookups, ugly fights, love gone sour. He thinks he's keeping Jared at length, but it's not really working. Jared definitely knows it's not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Bipolar Love Affair

_**Jensen** _

When Jared’s drunk, he lasts longer. He gets handsy. Sometimes he whines. But Jensen’s not going to lie; he loves it. At this moment, fully aware that Jared’s bar tab hit nearly a hundred tonight, and pushing right into his tight, hot hole, Jensen’s smiling down on Jared. And he’s nudging his face into Jared’s hand, welcoming the gentle scrape of fingernails in his growing stubble.

Jared’s legs tighten around Jensen’s waist, tugging him closer, forcing Jensen’s dick deeper on each movement. He’s making all the little noises he always does, a well-known string of _uh, uh, hmm, hmm_ and many other variations. Jensen’s pretty sure that Jared’s close to releasing his criminally good run of filthy talk, but he thinks it’s time he makes a point and moves faster, punching harder and quicker, reveling in the high pitched whimpers that Jared releases as his prostate is hit on each slide in.

While it’s not really known at the bar that they’re doing _this_ , and that’s pretty much Jensen’s doing of avoiding public scenes, there _is_ such a thing as decorum. It’s a fact that after enough alcohol, Jared often lacks it. Jensen’s tired of witnessing the truth and figures he’ll make a point. 

Jensen hits harder, faster, feels the cut of Jared’s hips hitting his own and just keeps going. Even through Jared’s groans that border on painful.

Jared breaks, streaking Jensen’s belly, and then Jensen is stalling with the pulse of Jared’s ass, clenching and nearly holding him in place. Just a few more strides and Jensen loses it, comes inside and tries so hard to keep himself up, palms firm in the mattress. He pulls out and then reaches down and smirks at Jared. He runs his finger around the hole, feels Jared flinch, and then his finger eases in, helped by lube and his come.

Jared whimpers again and Jensen’s smirk turns dark as his finger presses in tight against the walls. “Fuck man,” Jared mumbles, smacking Jensen’s arms. He tosses his head to the side and does little to hide the pain.

Jensen pushes harder for a few seconds and then withdraws, but doesn’t waste the chance to tug at the ring with a slight scrape of fingernail. He relishes the wince on Jared’s face and chuckles at him.

“You’re an asshole,” Jared mumbles.

“Learned well,” he returns as he tumbles over Jared to collapse on his back. His eyes flash to the clock: 6:39am. They roll back and close, and he releases a tired sigh.

 

…

 

This Sunday afternoon is much like any other. They’re hungover, mumbling to each other about coffee, and it’s Jared who’s up to start a pot on his own in Jensen’s kitchen until Jensen pulls himself out of bed to join him. Jensen rubs at his bare chest and leans in on Jared, dressed only in jeans with the top button undone to show dark boxer briefs. As he is most weekend mornings.

Jared passes a full mug behind him and Jensen instantly takes it, but not before dropping a kiss to Jared’s shoulder with a short bite added on the end. “Fucker,” Jared mutters as he shifts his shoulder away.

Jensen chuckles and turns to the counter, leaning back and facing him. “Maybe next time you won’t be a dick.”

“Yeah? What’d I do this time?”

“This time,” Jensen snorts. “You were all over Cathy.”

“Was not.”

He nods and raises a hand, squeezing air. “All hands and ass.”

Jared relaxes against the counter, takes a long sip, and closes his eyes on the thought. “Which one’s Cathy?”

“From Gianatti’s.”

A few seconds later, Jared’s face sparks with the recognition, but then he’s groaning. “No, I did not. Not her, nuh-uh.”

“Yeah-huh,” Jensen shoots right back. He downs his coffee and puts the mug into the sink. He’s moving to the bedroom without another word, almost ignoring how Jared follows.

“That girl … she’s the one who had the threesome with Chad. I wouldn’t touch her.”

“It is. And you did,” he fires back with a bit of attitude.

It’s not so much that he’s pissed at Jared for flirting and getting playful. He’s pretty sure that Jared’s not going after anyone else no matter how many times he chats up people in the bar. Besides, he comes back to Jensen’s each week without question.

It’s more the fact of who these people are. All the regular weekend drunks, the ones who work at local restaurants and other bars that aren’t fortunate – or unfortunate, depending on one’s point of view – enough to be open until four in the morning, like the place Jensen works. The people like Jared who mosey in half drunk and make the night carry on with more drunkenness than should be appropriate.

Jared nearly crowds him, forcing him to take an extra step or two to not be giving a piggy-back ride. “Aww, baby’s first jealous streak.”

Jensen turns and all but pushes Jared from his path and heads for the bathroom. “What’m I jealous of? The girl who goes after anything with a pulse and a dick?” He’s closing the door, but Jared’s head is pushed into the doorway and Jensen just stares. Until Jared breaks out a pout and wide eyes, playing up the best wounded puppy face he’s used yet. “What?” Jensen sighs.

The corner of Jared’s mouth tilts as he tries to hide a smile. “Thought I’d come in.”

“I’m showering.”

“I’m dirty, too,” he nearly chuckles.

“Don’t I know it?” When he pushes at Jared’s chest and starts to shut the door, Jared holds onto Jensen’s wrist to make it the cause for the door to remain open. Jensen pulls the door open enough to see Jared’s face again. “ _What?_ ”

Jared moves close in the space so all they can manage to see are their faces. “Is this your way of kicking me out?”

“I was going for subtle.”

“Hate to tell you,” Jared smirks. “Ain’t working.”

“So I noticed.” He sighs when Jared moves in closer. Jensen finally gives in and kisses him, fighting the groan of how ridiculous Jared is in the morning and how he does all he can to overstay his welcome. Or at least, the welcome Jensen has set down. He doesn’t necessarily hate being with Jared in the morning, but he’s all about boundaries and Jared always tests them. When the kiss has lasted long enough, Jensen pushes him back. “’Kay, go.”

Jared rolls his eyes with a sigh of his own and pushes at Jensen’s head. “I hate you.”

Through the shut door, he calls out, “I’m sure that’s why you keep coming back.”

Jensen hears the muttered, “Yeah, and why do you?” but chooses to ignore it.

This is them. Pathetic and too ignorant to be real.

 

_**Jared** _

Jared grabs lunch with Chad, like they do all too often during the week, relishing the swatches of sunlight peaking between tall office buildings. They settle on the front steps of a building halfway between their offices and snack through sandwiches and chips while talking about anything.

Chad surprises him when he bumps his knee. “Saw you talking to Cathy on Saturday.”

He shakes his head, not wanting to admit to it, even when he can’t remember a second of it. “No, I was not.”

With a dark chuckle, Chad smacks the side of Jared’s leg. “You were _all over_ her.”

Another shake of his head, Jared can’t take this. He scrubs a hand through his hair and sighs. Jensen’s said it, now Chad – and that’s the worst part. That someone else noticed. “You really have a threesome with her? She ain’t that hot.”

Chad shrugs and looks at his sandwich, pinpointing his next bite. “She was willing.” Through his chewing, he keeps talking. “I mean, her friends are hot, and I was just getting through to that.”

“Right. That always works.”

“What’d you guys do?”

Jared eats and shakes his head, barely getting out, “Nothing. I didn’t go home with her.”

“Who did you go home with?”

His entire mood shifts low, even when he doesn’t want to consider it. He goes home with Jensen every Friday or Saturday, sometimes both. They fuck for hours, sleep, and then Jared leaves. He’s not quite happy about it, doesn’t want it to be the only pattern. It’s been going on for months and hardly anyone’s the wiser. Though Sandy once caught them exchanging looks and she insisted Jared _get on that_. When Jared refused and was way too nonchalant for what Sandy was used to seeing, they were made. Chad heard it from her, but he tends to ignore it, pushing Jared in so many other directions, forcing him onto other guys and girls.

Except Jared doesn’t want anyone else. He just wants Jensen to calm the hell down and let something actually evolve between them. But Jensen doesn’t allow for anything to happen outside of the weekly late night, drunken rendezvous, and Jared, against his better judgment, goes with it.

He really wishes he didn’t. Wishes he’d made a point early on and pushed Jensen out beyond this fuck-on-the-weekends-when-drunk phase. But Jensen doesn’t allow much else to happen and Jared … well, sometimes he lets things dissipate and then he’s screwed. Because he _really_ likes Jensen and he doesn’t have the presence of mind to cut him out of his life.

Though he’s getting real tired of it all.

“Wait, lemme guess,” Chad perks up, bouncing his knee. “In the car. You did her in the car, didn’t you?”

“What?” Jared nearly shrieks. “No. I didn’t do anything with her.”

“Why not?”

Jared rolls his eyes, tries to push it to the back of his head. For once, he’s grateful that he drank enough to forget, enough to not have the knowledge of what everyone else saw. He’ll take the taunting from Jensen and Chad and whoever else wants to mention it. It’s better than watching it on replay if his mind could show it.

“Fuck. You kiddin’ me?” Chad whines, and Jared knows he’s pegged. Knows he doesn’t have to utter a word for Chad to know where he’d disappeared to. “Still with that asshole?”

Jared’s ready to argue _he’s not an asshole_ , but the fight has left him on this one. He has no energy to do it, to defend Jensen, no matter how much he wants to.

 

…

 

Saturday night again and Jared’s feeling good, packed tight with enchiladas and lubricated with frozen fruity drinks. He and his friends crowd their end of the bar, free with the volume of their voices and little care for anything other than alcohol. Jared repeatedly checks Jensen out, appreciates the lines of his shoulders and back, the strength in his arms as he moves behind the bar, the curve of denim over his ass. He grins when Jensen turns from bending over the cooler and their eyes lock briefly. His smile quirks and his eyes roam again, even when Jensen gets back to his business, because Jared’s still got a great view of Jensen slipping along the bar, reaching under then over to serve other patrons. Jensen’s muscles stretch with each movement and Jared imagines the bulk there, and then he feels a steady thrum in his body that could match Jensen’s energy behind the bar.

Jared’s pulled from his viewing when bumped by Sandy, and she’s smiling way too brightly for her to not mean trouble. Especially when she seems to have brought company. “Jared, John. John, Jared. I work with him.” 

And then she’s gone.

He looks at the guy, his height rivaling Jared’s. Soft, side-swept blonde bangs, smooth nose and jawline. There are kind eyes and a kinder smile as he reaches for Jared’s hand and shakes.

They fumble their way through conversations. Jared only half-heartedly listens, and actually gives more attention when Jensen swings by for a refill. He grabs onto Jensen’s hand, holding it to the bartop, and smiles at him. “Two Patrons, on the rocks.”

Jensen’s eyes flicker over Jared’s shoulder to John while he tugs his hand back, but it’s useless. Jared holds on tight, and eventually Jensen relaxes enough to not seem like a threat, so Jared loosens his hand, too. “No Jameson?” Jensen asks with a tiny smile.

“Don’t think that mixes well with Uncle Julio’s.”

In seconds, Jensen’s back with a shaker, two shot glasses, and the bottle. He’s efficiently preparing the shot, but isn’t exactly moving on from watching the guy milling behind Jared’s back. “Big date?”

Jared just tips his head to the side, frowning with a deadly stare, which causes Jensen to laugh.

“You have swirls?”

Jared slowly smiles, remembering the sweetness of the frozen sangria-margarita mix that he’d inhaled through all of dinner and for a while after, before he and his friends came here. “Naturally.”

Jensen nods and pushes the shots forward, but Jared just taps his glass into the other, forcing it back to Jensen. They share a look and Jared raises an eyebrow, doing his best to tempt and taunt as he wraps his lips at the edge of the shot and waits. He sees Jensen’s hard swallow and short head shake. Then Jensen’s lifting it and saluting before dropping it back into his mouth and disappearing.

Over time, Jared orders two more rounds of shots, and Jensen takes them both with him. Jared can see Jensen’s eyes warming to him and how the fingers linger, dancing on the bartop and sliding in spilt liquor. Yet Jensen still won’t give in to the temptation and wiggles away the second it gets too close, tossing a tiny smirk Jared’s way.

It’s beyond infuriating. Jared can’t handle it, becoming angered and hurt at the same time. He turns his energy to John, and they talk for the rest of the night.

Jared still goes home with Jensen. He still doesn’t say a word about it.

Instead, he revels in Jensen’s loose muscles, helped along by the shots Jared bought him, not to mention the way Jared licks up the side of his dick and back down the other. It’s wet and loud, made even louder with Jensen’s lazy drawl. “That tongue. Just work the tongue. Right … yeah, that, just that. Jay, fuck, you suck so good,” he rambles on, uncharacteristically talkative tonight.

Jared takes it, bundles it up in his memory bank, and tells himself to never let this moment go. Never forget what he can do for Jensen, never let Jensen forget it either. So he gets more enthusiastic, pulling at Jensen’s hips and burrowing down as far as his mouth and throat will allow, taking as much of Jensen as is physically possible without depriving himself of too much oxygen for too long. Jensen’s hands thread through his hair. They don’t yank, but comb it off his forehead, and Jared is lost with the touch and vows to get Jensen drunk more often.

With a deep breath, Jared pushes himself even lower, Jensen’s dick fitting at the back of his throat. It elicits whine after whine, and now, Jensen’s fingers clench around the hair as he grinds up into Jared’s mouth.

“Fuck!” Jensen exclaims when Jared stays where he is, when he doesn’t relent. “Shit, Jay, gonna fuck you so good, man. Gonna do it up right. Payback for this. You’re gonna get it so hard.”

Jared swallows, takes a short bit of air through his nose, turns his head, sucks harder, does everything in his power to over-stimulate Jensen and force him to orgasm. He slips up, sucks at the head, and strokes him through it, swallowing everything until Jensen’s a bundle of slack skin and bones. Settling over Jensen’s body, Jared fucks his tongue into Jensen’s mouth, forcing the fact that he’s just obliterated any bit of control Jensen ever had for this moment.

Jensen’s only reply is whimpering through the kiss and trying like hell to hold Jared in place with tight fingers around his biceps.

With his throat ragged from all his effort, Jared asks, “How about that fuck?”

Jensen pushes his head back into the pillow and shuts his eyes tight. “Man … when I recover.”

Jared finds out that recovery is somewhere around eight in the morning with Jensen slipping a spit-slick finger inside before Jared can even open his eyes to the onslaught of fingers and mouth and tongue. It feels ungodly good to be woken up to it, having never been in this position before.

Jensen fucks him with two gifted fingers in his ass and his tongue making an appearance from time to time, until finally, Jared’s begging and Jensen’s relenting, stroking him to come. It blows his mind and he’s a sack of muscle in bed, not wanting to leave, relishing Jensen’s dark chuckle and his quick peck-turned-bite at the shoulder.

He still hates himself when he leaves the apartment two hours later.

 

...

 

Sandy rings him later that week with the cheeriest of voices. “You’re gonna love me.”

“Highly doubt it,” he mumbles back while working the lock on his front door. He drops his work bag to the couch and tosses mail across the loveseat, caring so little about where it all lands. “What’d you do now?”

“Got you a date.”

Jared laughs and is about to insist she needn’t do that. Even if he was interested in dating, he could do it himself.

“You need yourself a boyfriend,” she insists.

He shakes his head while rummaging through his fridge. Okay, yeah, he’d like one of those, but he doesn’t really need one, he already has …

She rambles on, clearly knowing his line of thought. “And Jensen doesn’t count. Oh my God, does he not count. Has never counted. Will never count.”

“Sandy, what …” He trails off there, stops cold in his tracks, because he’s closed the fridge door and is staring at picture from the bar. One he’d snapped of Jensen a few weeks ago. While incredibly gorgeous in a fitted white v-neck, his eyebrow is up high and he’s clearly annoyed. Which only reminds Jared of how fucked up the two of them are, how Jensen doesn’t let him in, doesn’t even let him be around more than is necessary. He needs a fucking life beyond Jensen and that bar.

Jared sighs. “What’s his name?”

 

…

 

He kind of hates Sandy, because the date is actually pretty nice, definitely not a failure and ranking fairly high on his list of nights out, even when initially awkward.

It’s John, from the week before, and he lights up the evening with tales of being an entertainment writer for one of the city’s major newspapers. He has colorful stories about acts he’s seen, people he’s interviewed, and he peppers his stories with detailed anecdotes that have Jared laughing and smiling fondly through the whole thing.

On top of it, he’s truly interested to hear Jared drone on about his administrative job at Mercy General, how Jared loves traipsing up and down the hallways, encouraging the nursing staff in ICU no matter how many times they see patients come and go, for the better and worse. John acknowledges the heart it takes to be there day in and day out. Jared gives a small smile and nods, knowing himself how much he loves his job and his coworkers and the people they treat.

It’s the first time in months he’s talked about himself, about his career, his daily activities, and where he wants to go with his life. The night couldn’t be better.

Except when John kisses him goodnight, gently and like he’s nervous himself, Jared freezes and thinks of how Jensen kisses. Plump lips, coarse fingertips roaming his neck, a wide, slick tongue. Nowhere near the same thing right here.

There’s guilt running through his body. He hates it, knowing it shouldn’t be there. It has no place in his life. Jensen is not his. Except he’s still sick over it.

He calls Sandy and laments. She doesn’t understand. She gives him shit for not staying on track with a new opportunity.

Naturally, easily, he ignores her, and heads straight to the bar.

 

_**Jensen** _

Jensen likes working at the bar. Really, he does. It’s just that he hates working weekends when everything gets crazy. When _everyone_ goes nuts. During the week, there’s a mellow string of regulars and it closes at two. It’s Fridays and Saturdays when all breaks loose, and it’s like hell released all its worst offenders to keep drinking well beyond what is humanly acceptable. Or possible.

Downsides to his weekdays are the low tips and slow nights. He manages well enough and makes meager tips, but it’s the weekends when the money just pours in. He supposes he can’t complain. Much.

Wednesdays are the slowest night, so he’s surprised that Jared hops up to a barstool and grins at him. The surprise sits more in the fact that it’s already ten and Jared is a regular nine-to-five worker bee who actually follows through with his responsibilities during the week.

He pulls a Lite from the cooler and is half a second from plucking the cap off when Jared frowns and shakes his head. 

“No, the other stuff.”

Jensen’s eyebrow goes high as he turns for a highball glass and the bottle of Jameson. His skeptical look is still in place when he pours the drink in front of Jared and watches him take a healthy sip from the glass. Jared releases a low _Ahh_ in appreciation, or relaxation, or just stress release. Jensen’s not sure.

It’s then that he realizes Jared’s not in a regular trendy tee or ugly patterned button-up. He’s clothed in something stylish and almost adult-like. 

“Where’re you coming from?” Jensen asks oddly as he puts the bottle back and rests his palms on the bar.

Jared takes a deep breath. “Nowhere. Just a weird day.”

“Yeah? What happened?”

There’s a long look then Jared stares into his glass. “Nothing, don’t worry.”

“What’s wrong?”

With a snort, Jared shakes his head. “You gonna play bar therapy?”

Jensen rolls his eyes. He likes quiet week nights; he’s not up for moods right now. “Suit yourself.” He moves down the line to check in on another patron.

He’ll admit to watching Jared, keeping an eye on him and refilling his glass as soon as it’s near empty. But he doesn’t ask more, just works his way through the night. Though he does note when Danneel serves Jared, fills his glass up for a third time, and leans in to talk and laugh and, he’s sure, flirt.

 _She’s working tips_ , he tells himself. The other half asks, _What do you care?_

He snorts with a flick of an eyebrow and washes another glass. He doesn’t care. He shouldn’t.

Except, before he realizes it, it’s near one. He’s thinking about last call creeping up soon and Jared’s still at the bar. Jared has his hand cupped around the glass and is glaring at it like he’s having a thorough conversation with it.

Without much thought, Jensen pours a tall glass of water and passes it to Jared. They’re both quiet and Jared slowly looks at the water then to Jensen standing right there.

“What’s this?”

“H-two-oh.”

Jared snorts, his head knocking back with the sound, and it’s obvious the liquor’s gotten to him.

Jensen crosses his arms at the bar and taps a finger at the surface. “So, what’s wrong?”

Jared pushes the highball glass at Jensen as he sits up and shakes his head. There’s something there that Jensen wants to ease, but he won’t offer much more than water and this last chance to talk about it. He sees Jared’s throat clench with a tough swallow then Jared leans forward against the bar and takes a deep breath, seeming to prepare himself for his question. “Think I can come by?”

Jensen flicks an eyebrow and looks up and down the bar, logging who’s there and who’s paying any attention. No one is, and for a small second, his pinky reaches out and grazes Jared’s hand. Even with that soft touch, he says, “I don’t think that’d be a good idea.” 

Jared’s mouth twists and he looks to the side as he pushes Jensen’s hand away. Beyond his better judgment, Jensen grabs Jared’s wrist to keep his attention. 

“You should probably just go home and sleep it off,” Jensen murmurs. Jared tsks and wrenches his hand away. Jensen lets him, then casually says, “We’re not done ‘til after two, and I’m not gonna keep serving you.”

“I didn’t want …” and Jared shakes his head before glancing around them, which forces Jensen to do the same.

Danneel’s watching and Jensen feels a shock to his belly. He stands up and steps back, grabbing the highball glass and putting it in the sink to his right.

Jared takes a long drink from the water. “I was just asking about hanging out, that’s all.”

He snorts and shakes his head. “It’s one am, and you’ve got work.”

“Right. I forgot. Weekends only,” Jared says, pushing back from the bar and rising.

Jensen catches Danneel moving closer to grab a few bottles out of the nearby cooler. For her, he rolls his eyes, mutters, “Whatever, man,” and doesn’t watch Jared leave.

After she’s served the beers, Danneel plants herself next to Jensen, elbow on the bar and leaning at a cool angle. “What’s wrong with Jared?”

Jensen goes on cleaning glasses and gives a plain, “Hell if I know.”

“I think he needs to get laid,” she says with no real intentions, though Jensen freezes at that anyway. “He’s here all the time and never takes anyone home.”

While he pours a draft beer for himself, Jensen snorts, knowing how true that statement is because Jared’s always going home with him.

She rubs a hand over her hip and tips her head to the side. “Maybe I should.”

He turns quickly, but tries to shield his panic while drinking from the pint glass. “Maybe you should what?”

The hand then seductively roams her stomach and other hip. “Man, I bet he really knows how to take a girl.”

Jensen spits a bit of beer, and turns. “Right, yeah,” he mumbles.

“What? You know something I don’t?” she smirks.

He flips an eyebrow and shakes his head. “Not at all.”

“You don’t ever take a look at him? Big boy like that …” She drifts off with a happy sigh, and Jensen sighs. 

“I like to keep my life safely compartmentalized.”

Danneel snickers. “And what does that mean? No sex?”

“It means no sex with patrons.” _Or being public about it_ his brain supplies.

“But then what’s the fun in working in a bar?”

It feels awkward that she’s smiling so brightly at him now. As if she’s trying to lay claim to Jared, or maybe she’s making a move on Jensen, because then she slides in close and taps his bottom lip. 

“Gotta have fun, Jensen,” she purrs. When he flinches, she laughs heartily. As she steps away to clear glasses, she yanks her towel out of her back pocket then snaps him in the ass with it. “Relax a little, Jen. Life’s too short to think too much.”

 

…

 

It’s another busy Friday night with the other bars emptying between one and two, and the hordes rush into theirs. Danneel, Jensen, and even Tom are rushing back and forth to handle the overflow of orders, slipping between each other and the counters, reaching for glasses and bottles, and narrowly smacking each other every time.

Jensen settles back at the corner where a quick run of drunks had been rattling off their order, and he spots Jared. It’s obvious that he’s happier than he was the other night, laughing gleefully to something one of his friends says. Jensen gives him a small smile when their eyes meet. “Whatcha need?” he asks, nodding at him.

Jared leans on the bar, elbows edging out other patrons who are smashed up against it. He’s drunk already, and something flares in Jensen’s belly, but it’s squashed the minute Jared starts talking, voice dark and sneaky, like he’s seducing and slipping under Jensen’s skin. “Whatever you’ve got.”

He wants to bite Jared’s head off for wasting time screwing around, but with the mess of people around them, he doesn’t even have time for that. “Miller Lite? Jameson?”

“Both!” Jared says, eyes lighting up and a grin breaking across his face. “Make it three shots and four beers.” As Jensen turns away, Jared covers his hand and squeezes. “You want one, too?”

Jensen pulls it away immediately, fights the scowl, and just shakes his head before hurrying to fill the order.

As he works the tops off the beers, he’s muttering to himself and Danneel falls into place beside him to open her own bottles. “Look at Jared. He’s out for ass tonight.”

“Yeah? Haven’t noticed.”

“Everyone has.”

When he looks over, he finally _sees_ Jared, sees the fitted sweater that just _barely_ reaches his jeans. At least it likely should fully cover him, but with every shift there’s a slip of golden skin and underwear. The handful of people in his conversation are close and a short brunette keeps swiping her hand at his hip as they talk, as she leans up and in close to be heard. Her fingers touch Jared’s bare skin, squeeze, and hold on while she gets on her tip toes.

That does it. That’s what it takes for Jensen to finally watch and think about later, and to wish that he didn’t have such issue with people in bars and drunken hook-ups. Because he wants to touch that skin and taste the sweat, and then he’s bumped by Tom and taken out of it all.

When he gets back to Jared with the beers, he’s warmed from head to toe, but ignoring it in the name of pouring three shots across the bar.

“Hey,” Jared says lowly. When Jensen looks up, Jared’s smirking and leaning across the bar, totally ignoring anyone else around him. Even that girl who couldn’t stop touching him. “You’re lookin’ good tonight.”

“Thanks,” Jensen says quickly, going right back to the shots as he fills them up dangerously close to the top.

“Is that the navy blue? Can’t tell in this light.”

He shuts his eyes for a second to steady himself. Yeah, Jensen dresses with intention for work. He knows which colors work with his eyes, or make his tan pop, or fit his chest and arms and hang at his hips just right. He also knows which ones in particular Jared prefers, and this navy blue v-neck is one of Jared’s favorites. He knows this, but he hadn’t exactly taken that into account when dressing before his shift. At least he thinks he didn't. 

Without another thought, Jensen slaps another shot glass on the bar, fills it. He raises it up to Jared’s and nods with a muttered, “Cheers.” He knocks it back with Jared’s eyes on him the whole time, but he doesn’t look again. Not while he snags a few empties off the counter and not while Jared slides his credit card across the bar and asks to open a tab.

He can feel Jared’s eyes burning into his back with every movement. Whenever he chances a look to the far end of the bar, Jared’s there with the regulars. They’re all talking excitingly, getting wasted, hitting on each other with all the liquid courage they can afford. Jared has his arm around the petite brunette and is inappropriately close to her. Jensen’s stomach twists and his mind bends, trying to figure it out. He’s seen her before, knows she knows other people in the crowd who come every Saturday, and that almost bugs him more. Jared’s falling into the trap, will just screw anyone else in the bar because they had a thing go awry the other night.

There’s no reason to be mad, no jealousy needed. Jensen knows he’s an asshole when it comes to Jared. He doesn’t let things happen and doesn’t allow Jared inside. Not where it counts, where Jared wants to be. He knows he has no justification in being pissed at Jared for his roaming hand that, over the next twenty minutes, doesn’t seem to decide between grazing her side with his thumb coursing a line along the edge of her bra, her lower back, or even ghosting over the curve of her ass.

At the middle of the bar, a few girls are inhaling vodka cranberries and ordering lemon drops and red-headed sluts. When they flag him over, he smirks, working them up for the tips. “Ladies, you want more?”

The blonde slips a hand over his elbow and smiles right back. “Of course we do, what d’you say?”

“Same round?”

“Shots!” a redhead calls out, and the others chorus in. “Something sweet,” she says with a seductive smile, “But hard.”

He laughs and keeps on laughing to himself as he pours Southern Comfort into a shaker with ice and squirts lemon juice on top. He flexes as he pounds the shaker in front of them, all but leering and pouring with a flourish across four shot glass. They each reach for one and he grabs the last, raising it in the air.

“To hot bartenders!” the blonde yells.

He flicks his eyebrows as he downs it with them, grinning when they wince with the strength of the harsh liquor. He grabs the glasses and turns to put them in the sink, instantly catching Jared staring. Jensen subtly nods at him then to the side and Jared immediately disengages himself from the brunette, rolling his head towards the hallway just off to his left.

As Danneel slides past with her hands full of bottles, Jensen grab her hips to stop and he mumbles his excuse to step away for a moment. She complains about the customers, how full the place is, but he ignores it and moves out from the bar and to the hallway leading to the office.

Jared’s there in seconds and Jensen pushes him into the tiny office and against the wall. His mind rages on, berating Jared for his behavior, for being so obvious and touching that girl. _Genevieve_ , Jensen thinks with suddenly clarity, even with Jared’s tongue wet and all around the inside of his mouth.

Jensen sucks on it, hard and rough like he wants to blow Jared, like he wants Jared on him, but he doesn’t ask for it. Just pushes in tighter so they can feel each other.

It’s Jared who starts talking, mumbling through the kisses. “Saw you with those girls. You want them? Wanna fuck them?” His fingers are tugging on Jensen’s belt loops, keeping Jensen in place as Jared rolls his hips and their dicks cross beneath denim. “Want them to suck you off?”

Jensen finally speaks, grabbing the back of Jared’s neck and forcing him closer. “No. Want you to.”

Jared dips his fingers into the back of Jensen’s jeans, the length of them slipping into his crack. “Right here?”

His voice is hard, dark, purposeful. “Right now, right here. Just do it.”

In seconds, Jared’s on his knees, unbuttoning and peeling Jensen’s pants and boxer briefs away, and then stroking his dick. He looks up with a short moment of hesitation. They’ve never messed around at the bar. There was the first time they’d ever kissed in the parking lot, but it ended there. The bar is off limits, no matter what.

“Jay, just fucking do it,” Jensen insists, feeling the need coil in his belly. His breathing is sharp and burns, and then his fingers thread through Jared’s hair as his voice drops. “Do it how you do.”

Jared licks his lips and takes Jensen into his mouth, humming with Jensen’s immediate moan. He moves slow at first, keeping with Jensen’s easy nudges at his head, but then Jensen starts moving his hips forward and Jared takes it enthusiastically. Jared moves faster and it’s sloppy and loud, even with the muddled sound of music from inside the bar. Jensen can’t stop the little noises escaping his mouth, either. Little whimpers and groans and muttered pleading.

Jared shifts his head, changes angles, lets Jensen’s dick bump the inside of his check, the far reaches of his throat, working it masterfully, which blows Jensen’s mind considering how much Jared’s had to drink. 

Jensen feels heady with the shots he’d also downed in the last hour and now this. Jared on his knees, sucking and licking like he’s dying for it. Jensen grabs at Jared’s hair with a murmured, “Hey, hey, Jay, wait,” in warning.

It’s a loud pop when Jared moves back, but he squeezes at the base of Jensen’s dick and looks up with heavy eyes while his tongue reaches out to pad over the head. Jensen tips his face to the ceiling with a soft groan. Jared’s tongue curls around Jensen’s dick, teases the hole, runs under the rim, and Jensen looks back down. He pushes the hair off Jared’s forehead, slowly shaking his head, and trying so hard to not come, trying to keep these sensations as long as he can because everything is tingling heading to toe and then it’s sparking wherever Jared licks.

Jared takes him again, tongue flattening cross the head, moving all around it and inching it back in with maddening patience. It’s when Jensen sees his dick pressing inside Jared’s cheek, stretching and obvious, that he loses it. He moves into Jared’s mouth for a few quick strokes, pressing his hands into Jared’s cheeks so he can feel himself inside, and then he stutters, shakes, and comes in Jared’s mouth with a groan.

When Jensen settles back against the wall, Jared’s got a shit eating grin, and Jensen slowly smiles back. The smile tips up when Jared stands and his dick is hard and obvious in his jeans.

Jared leans forward, pushing into Jensen’s mouth so they both taste him, and Jensen can’t help the moan because it reminds him of how good it just was. Jared mumbles against him, “You gonna take care of this?” as he pulls Jensen in tight to feel him.

Jensen nudges him back, against the opposite wall and at arm’s length. “You do it.” Jared’s confusion is obvious, and Jensen eases it by saying, “I’ll watch you do it.”

Jared’s eyes widen as does his smile and he undoes his pants and pulls himself out. He strokes slowly and it looks more like he’s just holding himself than anything, but Jensen can see how Jared’s moving right into the hand. No matter how leisurely it is, Jensen’s turned right back on. “You wanna watch me?” Jared murmurs.

With the flip of his stomach, Jensen grabs onto Jared’s hips and nods, not even conscious of it until he says, “Fuck, yeah. I wanna watch.”

Jared leans back against the wall, eyes on Jensen as he starts stroking in earnest and his other hand tugs his sweater up his chest. Jensen is pinned by Jared’s stare until he sees Jared’s abs clench as he gets faster and Jensen has to watch that. His fingers tighten around Jared’s hips and begin guiding him into the hand, still watching as Jared’s fingers curl around his dick and slide up and down, faster and faster as his dick is long, red, and leaking. His precome slicks the way and the sound of skin on wet skin causes Jensen to stop breathing, not wanting any of his sounds louder than that.

He’s grateful for that because then he has Jared’s loud breathing and the slap of skin in his ear for the longest time. Until Jared’s breathing hitches and he slows down, making his usual _hmm_ noises, ones that get higher until he jacks himself quick and hard, and then he comes on his stomach.

“Oh, God,” Jensen murmurs as his hands move across Jared’s belly, thumbs spreading the come over his tanned skin, almost iridescent in the dull light of the office. There’s a pressure in his chest at the whole thing. Having told Jared that he wanted that, having Jared do it, and to then stare at the results, to feel it on the pads of his thumbs.

Jared’s flat to the wall, spent with his eyes closed and head tipped back. Jensen grabs a bar towel and wipes him down, then moves in to kiss. It’s surprisingly languid, almost meaningful for a moment; he takes his time and enjoys the slowness of their mouths together, feels something warm inside with it. Jensen tries to ignore that, he really does. But he knows.

Keeping Jared at arm’s length has been his standard. No sex in the bar is his rule.

And now he’s fucked them all to hell.

 

…

 

Truth be told, Jensen’s has had his eye on Jared since the first time he served him, fitting the tall, dark, and handsome type to a T. Jensen had felt instantly eased by Jared’s smile and his laughter, even got roped into his sense of humor and they got along well. 

Jared didn’t come alone; every time he stepped foot in the place, he was huddled with no less than five others. Most of them worked at the local restaurants and came half in uniform, using the night’s tips to cover their drinks. Jensen had soon enough found out that Jared and Chad were friends with a few others and then got to know so many other regulars in the place.

Which only caused inter-bar breeding. 

Which meant everyone had slept with anyone in the place – and continued to. Which pissed Jensen off more than any possible thing in the world.

He once made his own mistake in sleeping with a patron who got around far too much. Every time the guy milled around, flirting his way with someone else, Jensen cringed, knowing he’d been there before. Since then he’s witnessed more than enough late night, drunken hookups turn into more before crumbling and becoming more fodder for gossip. He didn’t want to get into that again, couldn’t manage to allow himself to, which is why it took so long to actually get to know Jared.

Jared certainly tried, picking up on his role as Jensen’s soft spot, but Jensen still fended off all advances.

The first night Jensen let anything happen, he struggled against it well before.

Jared had stepped up to the bar on a slow night around Labor Day, when so much of the regular Saturday night rush was off at end-of-summer celebrations. “ _Jen-sen_ ,” Jared drawled out with a sly look.

Jensen sighed with a playful roll of the eyes while putting clean glasses into a line under the bar.  
“What?” 

“When you gonna give me a chance?”

“About never.”

Jared leaned onto the bar, pushing himself over the side to watch Jensen work. H frowned. “What? I’m a good looking guy. You’re a good looking guy. Let’s have some good-looking fun.”

“That is the worst pickup line I’ve ever heard.”

“Come on,” he whined, sitting on a stool and tipping his head.

Jensen smirked and leaned on the bar with a critical eye. “You actually use that voice? How the hell you get laid with that?”

Jared bristled and shifted in place, trying to hide a brief wince. “I do fine.”

With a flick of an eyebrow, Jensen tapped the surface and walked down the line to serve another group, calling out, “I’m pretty sure your hand doesn’t count.”

“Man, that hurts,” he joked with a frown. “You’re cuttin’ real deep now.”

Jensen came back to pour drinks and then made a show of looking at Jared, reaching beneath the bar and coming back with a hard slap on the top. When he was gone, Jared laughed at the Band-Aid staring back at him.

But it didn’t keep Jared away, because he stayed all night, smiling at Jensen when no one forced him to leave after last call, when no one made a fuss then the bar cleared and they counted out tips and registers. He grinned even harder when Jensen served him another beer.

In the parking lot, Jensen lost all major thought, backing Jared up against his truck and kissing him first carefully then wet and rough. They’d spent seven months dancing around each other, Jensen always fighting back, expelling more energy than was likely necessary when he knew he would fall.

It was another three weeks of lowkey flirting and Jensen shooting him sly glances before Jared asked “Wanna go somewhere else?” after last call.

Jensen snapped his gum with an interested eyebrow and went back to cleaning up without word. When Jared looked like he was wrapping up his drinking, not interested in waiting around anymore, Jensen excused himself. He left Danneel and Tom finish the night out and met Jared in the parking lot. They’d gone to Jensen’s; he wouldn’t let himself go anywhere else.

No matter how long Jared had sucked him off, no matter how much Jared keened against Jensen’s fingers and made all the right moves and noises while they slowly screwed each other mad, Jensen pushed down his guilt when he kicked Jared out in the morning.

The second Jared was out the door, Jensen knew he was fucked, because the remorse came up like bile. And he couldn’t say no to Jared at the bar, took him home every time Jared asked, but never gave anything else.

 

…

 

Chris isn’t a regular, but he’s known. Whenever he’s in the bar, he makes a splash of an appearance and Jensen’s always rolling his eyes at him. Chris’s attitude has been bad enough that he’s gotten himself booted from the place a few times before. Jensen always keeps on eye on him, fully in tune to Chris’s inability to control his temper. They grew up next door to one another, got into enough bouts throughout grade school, and even fought each other when Jensen had enough of his shit as adults.

Jensen always keeps a critical eye on him to make sure there’s no issue.

And of course, there is, because he’s talking with a girl who’s new to Jared’s little group, one Chad had been pawing all night. One that Jensen immediately recognizes from other times Chris has been in here.

He knows it’s over the second Chad eyes Chris, because even beyond Chris’s obnoxious nature, Chad’s in a class all his own.

It unreels like so many other bar fights that Jensen’s had to split up and force outdoors. Chad glances over then talks to his friends before looking over _again_ , this time enraged and jumpy to move. He stalks right over to Chris, slipping between him and the girl, and raising his head well above Chris, who’s obviously losing in the height debate.

“You got a problem, man?” Chris asks easily, but there’s more in his gaze, taking Chad in from top to bottom.

Jensen can read the judgment in Chris’s eyes; he’s ready and willing to take Chad’s rail-thin body.

Chad pushes Chris away from the girl. “Not anymore.”

“Well, maybe _I_ do now. You interrupted my conversation.”

The girl slips away, pathetically groping Chad’s elbow and trying to get him out of it. It doesn’t work, and Chad’s not going to back down.

There are a few more words, smirks, huffs of breath, and then the fists fly. Jensen’s launching himself over the bar and reaching them long before the bouncers can thread through the circling mass. He yanks Chad away just after pushing a forceful hand into Chris’s chest. He shoves repeatedly and then bodily blocks Chad from getting back into it. Jensen meets Jared’s eyes when Jared pulls on Chad from behind and holds him, one arm around Chad’s arms and the other around his throat to keep him stable.

Jensen sees all the patrons up on their feet, some excitedly so, others hysterical and scooting out of the way. He grabs heavy fistfuls of Chris’s shirt and hauls him across the floor and out the side door. With a good shove, Chris stumbles to the pavement, forced over with a hand to the ground to keep him as upright as possible. “Motherfucker,” Chris grunts in return as he rises to a tough stance, daring Jensen.

“Stay the hell outta my bar.”

Chris looks up at the awning and laughs. “I don’t see _Ackles_ up there. Who the fuck do you think you are?”

Jensen moves forward, so tired of this guy and his act, tired of breaking up his fights and putting his ass to the sidewalk. “I’m the asshole who keeps kicking you out. Now stay – the fuck – out,” he forces out with steely eyes, just inches from Chris’.

Chris quickly forces Jensen out of his space and in an instant, Jared’s pushing his way between them and Chad’s jumping right back in to slug Chris into the ground.

Jensen’s shouting every curse word he knows while pulling Chad off Chris. He even points a firm finger at Jared and orders, “Keep him the fuck away.”

Jared pushes Chad to the brick wall of the building, but doesn’t take his eyes off Jensen. Jensen’s still brewing, pissed as hell that this is how it goes down. Especially when he realizes half the bar has spilled out to watch.

Jensen gets back in Chris’s face with a finger between them. “You come in here again, I swear to God – ”

“Get the fuck out of my face,” he complains as he pushes sharp hands into Jensen’s face, punching and shoving.

They’re scrabbling against each other. Chris lands a hard left fist to Jensen’s cheek, and Jensen yanks at Chris’s hair. He wraps a hand in Chris’s shirt and with one hard push, he knocks Chris down to the ground. Jensen follows on hard knees with a harder hand into Chris’s windpipe. “I said, stay out of my bar.”

Someone tugs on Jensen’s arm and he’s jumpy, flinching and elbowing back into Jared’s face before he can realize it. Jared winces, but he moves back in and pulls Jensen up as a patrol car whips into the lot and two cops rush in to handle the situation.

Jensen’s not bleeding, but his cheek is tender and he holds a rag with ice that Danneel brought him. He winces every time he brings it up to his face, but he tries to keep it there often enough to alleviate the pain of raw skin. A headache builds on that side of his face as he has to give his report of the fight to the cops.

It’s late enough that the police push and prod until Jensen and Danneel have no choice but to close shop and get everyone out. He’s inside cleaning up the bar while Danneel’s taking care of the tables, and he’s doing a pretty damn good job ignoring Jared re-entering. Until Jared reaches over the bar and into a cooler to nab a bottle. Jensen yanks it from his grasp and puts it back. “We’re closed.”

“Dude, I fucking … ” He sighs before pointing at his own budding black eye. “You think this deserves a beer or what?”

Jensen slides down to wash more glasses, snapping them onto the drain pads without a word.

“Need I remind you,” Jared says, “you elbowed the shit outta my head when I was _trying_ to help you.”

Jensen looks up for a second, flashes a shitty smile, and lets out an equally shitty tone. “Yeah? That’s awesome. Too bad I didn’t _ask_ you to.”

Jared sighs and lifts up off his seat enough to grab shot glasses and spreads them across the bar in front of him. “You need a shot, asshole.” He looks around and spots Danneel in the far corner. He calls out, “You ready for something hard and strong, sweetheart?”

Danneel laughs and turns from the table she’s been wiping down to cross the room. “I’m always ready for it.”

“See,” Jared smirks at Jensen. “She’s up for it.”

Jensen snatches the glasses back. “Great, go fuck her tonight.”

“What the hell?!” 

Jensen finally snaps, unable to keep it in and refusing to care that Danneel’s right there next to Jared. In fact, it all reminds him of what pisses him off day and in day out about Jared and his friends. Someone’s always there. “No, fuck you! It’s your dickhead friends who start shit all the fucking time, and then I gotta put my neck out there to stop it all.”

“ _My_ dickhead friends?” Jared bitches back. “As I recall, it was Chris Kane who started shit. And I believe he was _your_ childhood BFF.”

Danneel’s attention flips between them and she tries to get between them, she really does, but Jensen just shouts right over her. “If Chad could keep a hold on himself, or even bother keeping his dick in his pants for one night, this wouldn’t be a problem. That was Chris’s girlfriend, dumbass.”

Jared stalls, lips parted and eyes dulling as he stares back at Jensen. “Fuck,” he whispers.

Danneel touches Jensen’s forearm and carefully says, “Jen,” before he shrugs away.

He glances at her and thinks on it, but decides he’s had enough. He leans over the bar and gets as close to Jared as possible without his feet leaving the floor. “You wonder why I don’t wanna say anything or do anything? Because you’ve fucked enough people here for me to watch my back and wonder who’s gonna step up to me.”

To his credit, Jared looks guilty and then thoughtful as he reaches for Jensen’s hands with a quiet, “Hey, c’mon, man,” but Jensen pulls away as soon as he can.

It doesn’t take much, now that he’s said his piece, to end the conversation. He removes the towel from his back pocket with a flourish and drops it on the bar then leaves.

He’s so tired when he gets home that he doesn’t imagine releasing all his frustrations with more liquor, mindless television, or even jerking off. He collapses face first to bed and focuses on the burn of his lungs as he struggles to stabilize his breathing.

In the morning, it’s not much better. His only response is to call out that night.

_**JARED** _

It feels weird to sit at a stool on a Sunday evening and not see Jensen. It’s weird any evening, but somehow this slow Sunday in the bar just twists in Jared’s head and it feels all sorts of wrong. 

Last night had really been the night for wrongs. Wrong people, wrong place, wrong reaction. The timing’s never _right_ , so Jared can’t say much on that. 

“What can I get you, sweetheart,” Danneel coos when she appears in front of him.

He stares at her as she slides a square napkin in front of him. “Lite.”

“You got it,” she replies, winking before she turns away to retrieve a bottle for him.

Danneel leans against her side of the bar and tips her head towards him. “So, what brings you out tonight?”

“Nothing,” he mumbles, then decides to just ask if Jensen’s there.

“No, he called out,” she says oddly, setting his bottle on the napkin. “Why?”

Jared goes quiet and takes a long sip from the bottle, relishing the cold and sour flavor of beer. He tries to nonchalantly glance around the place. It’s not completely empty; there’re a few patrons at the far end of the bar watching ESPN, but they’re not the usual crowd he sees. They’re weathered old men who likely hang out Sunday evenings for football on the big screen. It makes something stir inside. He wonders if he’s so attached to this place that he’ll be in their seats one day. Maybe still being served by Jensen.

And that’s a sad fucking idea.

“Never took you for the strong, silent type.”

Jared’s eyes flip up to Danneel’s. She smirking, and no matter how gorgeous she is, it’s annoying more than calming. “I’m just tired,” he says. He almost believes it. He’s tired of plenty of things – Jensen avoiding him, ignoring calls, putting his foot down when Jared tries to inch closer. 

“Though brooding does look good on you,” she murmurs, leaning closer.

He finally chuckles, smiles a little. It’s not so much that she gets through to him, but that he realizes brooding is pathetic at this point. 

 

…

 

Late Monday, Jensen finally answers a call. Jared could be ecstatic for it, thankful in all the right ways that Jensen finally picked up, but it’s anything but good when Jensen grumbles hello at him.

“I’m sorry,” Jared says when there’s too much silence following their awkward opening.

“For what?”

Jared knows it’s a damn good question, but he’s not sure of the answer himself. “For whatever’s pissing you off about this whole thing. Whatever’s making you take it out on me.”

Jensen sighs then waits out the moment until Jared’s sure that he’s been hung up on. “You don’t think it has anything to do with you?”

“Does it?” Jared asks hesitantly.

Quietly, yet firmly, Jensen responds, “It’s always been about you.”

“And what did I do then?” he fires back. He can feel it all pull together, all the anger and bitterness, confusion and impatience with Jensen keeping him at arm’s length. It all yanks itself up from his knees and angers him further. “I stepped in and tried to help manage the fight, to help you out and get it over as soon as possible. But all you’re doing is freezing me out. That’s bull shit!”

“Yeah, I know.”

Jared can’t identify the real feelings behind those words. They sound a bit defeated, somewhat angry, but mostly dismissive. He sighs and suddenly manages the strength to stand up for himself/ To force Jensen’s hand. “I’m tired, Jensen. I’m tired of all the back and forth and you ruling it all. I think I should get a say in what happens with the people I wanna be with.”

Jensen seems to agree with a half-hearted, “Yeah.”

“I can’t do it like this anymore. It’s something more between us or nothing.”

Jared waits it out, hangs on and hopes for the right answer. Even when he’s sure he won’t get it. He knows Jensen well enough to understand that when pushed, Jensen will walk.

He waits far longer than he had anticipated because he has to prompt Jensen to speak by sharply calling his name. 

“Yeah, alright,” Jensen says. “Alright, Jared. I hear you. I know what you want.”

There’s a rough sigh at the end of Jensen’s response that Jared can’t ignore. He sighs himself, shuts his eyes, and hangs up the phone without another thought or hope.

 

…

 

He sees John again. Because he figures he has nothing better to do if he’s avoiding he bar, it’s not hurting anyone to take a second date, and it may in fact help Jared forget that he served Jensen an ultimatum that he knew wouldn’t come to be. 

John is still funny, charming, and handsome. He’s full of the right stories to make Jared laugh and the right questions when Jared talks. The evening serves well enough to remind Jared that he deserves and can have someone who will treat him like the real deal. Someone who will see him outside of drunken hook-ups or flirting across a bar. 

Sad fact is it’s still not what he wants. 

Full on a few glasses of wine and a damned fine steak, Jared heads to the bar. He tells himself it’s to meet up with his friends. He wants to take a little of the edge off his worrying brain and to remember that sometimes, he can just be himself. Don’t have to worry over pushing too much with Jensen or letting too much out too soon on early dates with John. Or what everything and anything means between either of the two. 

He sees Jensen at the far end of the bar, but tells himself it doesn’t matter. He’s not here for Jensen; he’s here to relax and talk and laugh with his friends.

He succeeds on all accounts, enough so that when Jensen does finally approach him, he’s loosened up with both alcohol and pleasant conversation. Except the sight of Jensen immediately makes him lock up and he can feel tension run up his spine.

Jensen clears the bartop between them, dropping bottles into a nearby garbage can and wiping the surface down. He then places a fresh Lite in front of Jared and awkwardly smiles, awkwardly says, “Hey there.”

Jared slips a five dollar bill across the bar and smiles in thanks, but Jensen immediately shakes his head and refuses it. Instead of taking it back, Jared stuffs it into the nearby tip jar and smirks, feeling odd and off, but trying to not be in front of Jensen. “It’s not like I ever tipped you well before," Jared jokes. 

“You always took care of the bartender.”

It could be just another line from Jensen, and there should be a sharp smile and high eyebrow there. But there isn’t, and it makes Jared confused and suddenly very aware that he is very drunk.

Which is what he blames his next words on. “I went on a date.”

Jensen stares then lifts one shoulder, obviously uncomfortable. He glances away then right back at Jared. His face is stoic and unreadable. “Okay.”

“Just, you know, I’m not pining.”

Jared immediately regrets saying so. Even if he wants to make sure that Jensen knows he didn’t turn up here just to see him. Or at least, it wasn’t the only reason.

“I came out to have drinks with my friends,” he adds quickly. The words feel bulky and sour coming out of his mouth, but he can’t exactly stop them now that he’s started. “It’s not like I wanna date, but you know, have to move on and all that.”

“Well, I hope that works out for you,” Jensen manages to say quite levelly. “The not-dating-dating thing you’re trying out.”

“I mean, I _want_ to date. Just, not the way I was trying before. Like between us.” 

Jared shouts at himself to stop talking, but now that he has Jensen’s attention, the waterfall of bad intentions is spilling forth. “Like, it wasn’t working there. So I’m trying something different. Even if it was mostly nice between us. It’s not against you.”

Jensen roughly chuckles. “Funny way of showing it.”

Jared sighs. “I’m not trying to show anything. Just trying to explain. Why I’m here and why –”

“You’ve explained enough,” Jensen insists with his hand up, stopping Jared immediately. He nods stiffly, snaps his towel from his belt, wipes his hands for a few seconds, then gives Jared one of the most singled-out looks he’s ever served. “Good luck, Jared. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

Before Jared can formulate a response, Jensen’s off to the far end of the bar and quickly treating new patrons. 

Jared has no clue what just happened, or even how or why. Except he’s sure he’ll hate himself more for it in the morning. 

 

…

 

The sad fact is he hates himself even more the next night when he – predictably – meets up with the crew at the bar and spends most of his time watching Jensen work. 

There is something hypnotizing in the quick flips Jensen makes of each glass, the swift way he cranks the handheld bottle opener across a handful of bottlenecks, or how effortlessly he shakes up four different shot combos a few times over for a particularly rowdy group that planted themselves by the dartboards about an hour ago. 

There are exactly seven times that Jensen glances up or around and finds Jared staring. Three of those times, Jared shakes himself out of it and acts like he’d been randomly checking out the bar and all of its patrons lined up for Jensen’s or Danneel’s service. The other four, he finds himself staring longer, daring Jensen to be the one to look away first. Jensen is, in fact, the one to turn back to his work each time.

Notably, for the eight times Jared needed a fresh beer, it was Danneel who served him. Each time with a small smirk then a flip of her hair over one shoulder on her way to handling the next customer.

 

…

 

Sandy seems to have a better handle on the situation, because she declares she’s proud of him. Her bright chirping when she calls him the next morning is more maddening than an alarm or the birds outside Jared’s window because it’s well before noon and he didn’t get in until four in the morning, drunker than he had planned.

“It’s even better than you just standing up for yourself,” she insists. “Because you should have done that ages ago. Shouldn’t have been hanging on for all that time for someone to change who never was gonna do it for you. It’s so much better now because you have John. _John!_ He’s really, really excited to see you again. He’s excited to know that he finally has a real chance with you and that you’re free and –”

“Wait!” Jared finally manages to cut in, and he doesn’t think there’s a better time to stop her because his headache lets up a bit now that’s she’s stopped rattling off. “He’s glad he finally has a chance with me? What were you telling him?”

“Just that … you were kinda … hung up on someone else.”

“Why would you do that?”

“So he wouldn’t give up on you!” It feels insistent – and controlling – for her to add, “I couldn’t let him walk away before you’d given him a chance.”

“Can you just let me make my own decisions here?”

“Well, Jared, but – ”

“Jesus Christ, Sandy,” he moans. He cannot believe this is what it’s come to. His friends applauding him for something that’s currently making him feel fucked over and lonely. Even if he knows it’s what’s best for him in the long run.

“You make really shitty decisions, Jared,” she says firmly, as if she’s defending herself now and not just reprimanding him.

“But they’re mine,” he argues back. Then he sits up in bed and thinks on it for a few moments. He really wonders if shutting Jensen off was the best decision or just another random, bad one. Here, he hates being pushed by Sandy into something with John, wants to come by it naturally, on his own two feet. 

He isn’t sure if it’s fair to set different expectations on Jensen. Maybe it’s unreasonable to not let Jensen find his way in due time and let them still stumble along together.

“Whatever, it’ll be fine,” Sandy breaks into his rambling mind. “You have John now and Jensen’s leaving and –” 

“Leaving?”

“Yeah, he’s going back to KC. Everything will be back to normal at the bar. No more pathetic mooning over him and his face.”

 _Normal?_ What the hell is normal anymore for Jared? He sure as hell has no clue there and least of all … Jensen is going back KC. Kansas City, his mind supplies, and that’s just more pathetic. There was never any talk of places they’d been or lived and Jared figures it just cements the whole issue. 

After more of Sandy’s far-too-invested support, Jared hangs up, gets out of bed, cleans up around his place, and finds some semblance of patience in his suddenly empty, sterile apartment.

 

_**Jensen** _

Tuesday evening is pleasantly calm and easy. There’s a small cluster of folks from happy hour off to the side, taking up three square tables, while just a few other regulars are scattered down the bar. Jensen sits on a barstool in the inner corner of the bar with his feet up on a shelf and a book in hand. 

It’s some best seller from a few years ago that no one cares about anymore. Left behind by Danneel in the last year and now picked up by Jensen, lost on anything better to do with his time. Every twenty minutes or so he rises to dish out refills, but always returns back to his seat, lulled by the laugh track of whatever late night sitcom rerun the few guys bellied up to the bar are watching.

The front door squeaks when it swings open. Somehow Jensen hadn’t noticed that, or never cared to worry on it since they’re normally busier than this during his shifts. He’s hardly working on these nights; he’s doing Danneel a favor by being here right now. He looks to the doorway and instantly feels his fingers tighten around the book. It’s Jared, and ultimately a huge surprise.

Even more shocking is the fact that Jensen still can’t stop the quick swirl of his stomach or the instant tightness in his chest. 

If keeping Jared at arm’s length had been a huge fucking orchestration, facing him post-break-up-whatever is worse. It’s almost easier, yet feels colder to act non-chalant. To put on this façade of _just don’t give a shit_ , when he does. He gives many. 

He had actually been prepared to rise to Jared’s ultimatum. He thought he had, but then Jared told him he was not-dating-dating someone else or whatever the fuck that was, and Jensen couldn’t do anything aside from building an igloo around his sanity and prepare for a long winter.

Still, Jared is a customer and Jensen’s a damn fine bartender. He stands, drops the book under the bar, and heads down to meet Jared ten or so feet away from the other patrons. 

“Lite?” Jensen asks even as he’s got his hand in the cooler, fingers closing around the neck of a Miller bottle.

Jared awkwardly, hesitantly, slides onto a barstool. He sounds and looks shaky. “I wasn’t planning – ” After a quick sigh, he says, “Okay, yeah,” and Jensen sets it in front of him. As he wraps his hands around the bottle, he seems to startle himself then reach for his wallet. He puts a twenty down and sadly smiles. “And whatever you want.”

Jensen chuckles, eyes roaming the bar to make a point. “I don’t think anyone would question my taking a drink out of the cooler. You don’t have to buy me one.” Jared doesn’t take the bill back even when it takes a while until Jensen decides the hell with it; he has a Lite, too.

As Jensen tips his head back to drink, he keeps his eyes on Jared. Jared is watching him right back, and any night before that phone call with Jared, when he told Jensen he couldn’t do this anymore, Jensen would accept it. It would be the start of a long night of eyefucking and smirking and flirting until they’d find themselves sweating and panting in Jensen’s bed. 

It makes his gut clench, and he hates that. He’d been keeping Jared what he’d deemed far enough away, but it obviously wasn’t if this is how he still feels just looking at Jared. And remembering.

“So,” Jensen says, setting his bottle on the bar and attempting to break the ice.

“Buttons,” Jared replies. It sounds soft, to match Jared’s tiny smile.

Jensen chuckles. It’s like they’re twelve and making jokes. It’s nice. For the split second it lasts.

“So, I heard you were leaving,” Jared finally says. 

Nodding, Jensen attempts the maturity he’d dug up when making the decision. “Yeah. Gotta move up and on and all that.”

“KC,” he states more than asks.

Jensen shrugs and leans back on the cooler behind him. He holds the bottle in his lap and drudges up his easiest smile. “Sounded like a good idea at the time.” 

Jared looks even more uncomfortable than he did when he first stepped inside, so Jensen figures he’ll save him from talking. Jensen knocks on the bar and smiles as genially as possible. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

It doesn’t seem like anything more should surprise Jensen. Except that Jared leaves not more than five minutes later. And he left a barely drank beer and the twenty on the bartop.

 

…

 

The last Saturday Jensen would be working the bar, Danneel insists no one is. She guilts an old bartender – apparently the one who roped her into the place – and friends to cover for them. She argues that Jensen deserves a sendoff away from the place he’d habituated for the last decade. 

It’s Tom, Danneel, Jensen, and a few of the regulars who never caused any harm. Ones like Mike and James who spent more time cracking jokes and pranks with Tom and Jensen in the early evenings, before the real alcoholic monsters came out to play. Or Katie and Aldis, who seem to be the only successful love story to come out of the bar and became staples during the week when their second-shift jobs allowed them to stop in after hours. 

Katie and Aldis are alternating sentences as they breeze through the laughable arrangements of their low-key, fifty-guest wedding from a few months ago, well before that they’d all last seen each other. Somehow it’s not grating in the slightest for Jensen to sit at a round, high-top table of a cheesy local sports bar while downing Leinenkugel on special and listening to two old friends discuss marriage and receptions and dollar dances. 

It feels normal and comfortable in a way he hasn’t known in a long while. A long, oak bar can be limiting and isolating, and here he feels open enough to laugh and joke and even call Aldis out on allowing Katie to put him in a pale blue cummerbund.

Aldis rolls his eyes, waves a hand at Jensen in dismissal. “Man, the shit you do when you’re in love? Don’t even ask.”

“Still a big pussy,” Mike cuts in just before taking a long sip of his draft pale ale.

“Yeah, but now he’s Katie’s pussy,” Danneel adds.

Tom and James lean forward, wholly interested with a spark in their eyes. Tom’s the one to say, “I’m utterly interested to hear more about Katie and her pussy.”

Jensen merely leans back and watches his friends crack up and playfully fight over that comment. He smiles and feels oddly calm about the whole mess in leaving the bar. Maybe they can all still meet up like this, spend random nights together as they catch up on life and relive their pasts. 

Danneel’s warmly smiling at him from the next stool. She pats his knee with a wink. He’s certain he’ll at least keep up with her from time to time. He can’t not hear what’s next up for the bar and what cretins are causing the next drama-soaked storylines. Even if he’s decided he’s far past the want to live it every day.

It takes a few seconds to realize that Danneel’s hand tightening around his knee is more of her own kneejerk reaction than any sort of passing advance. She nods to the side, where she’s also staring, and Jensen sees it. Or him, rather. Jared. 

He looks unkempt in an ill-fitting hooded sweatshirt and his hair a mess as if he’s been spending the entire night dragging his hands through it. He’s also seemingly in a heated trivia match with a table full of T-ball kids about ten feet from him.

Jensen can barely make out the words on the flat screen hanging over the bar; they’re blurry and scrolling too fast, but he gets that Jared knows the answer in seconds, fistpumping with his tablemates – people Jensen’s never seen before. The three guys with Jared, big guys built like he is, all playfully taunt the young boys when the screen declares _Padalecki_ as first place over _Tballers_. The whole show is complete with raspberries.

There’s this perplexing want to get up and go to Jared. Jensen doesn’t know why or how to stop it, but it’s welling up high. So bad, in fact, that he starts bouncing his knee up and down in place of actually moving off the stool.

“Jensen?” Danneel asks suddenly. 

He flinches and stares at her. 

She furrows her brows and turns away, muttering into her beer, “Okay, weirdo.”

“I’m fine. All good here,” he insists. Then grabs his pint glass and easily finishes off the last quarter of his beer. “Except I need more beer. And a piss.”

Jensen’s gone from the table, and back even faster after a short stop in the bathroom. But he stalls a few feet from the table, just behind Jared who’s currently laughing with Danneel and Tom.

“You leave the bar deserted or what?” he asks them.

“It’s in capable hands. We hope,” Danneel adds with a laugh.

“Besides, what kind of trouble will there be if you’re not there?” Tom adds in.

That hits Jensen in the gut. His friends think – they know – that Jared is at the center of drama in the bar. 

He suddenly wonders why he even bothers thinking about Jared anymore. He’s leaving that place and moving on. He doesn’t need anyone occupying more space in his brain.

Except Jared turns slightly and spots Jensen hovering a few feet away. He gives a cautious little wave, an even tinier smile. With a few quick fingers through his hair, it looks a bit tamer and now his cheeks are pink, and he appears so endearing.

 _Shit_. Jensen immediately remembers why he ever thinks of Jared.

It’s been a long time since he’s been in deep, but he knows he’s in really fucking far with Jared. It’ll take a crew of spelunkers a month to find the bottom of it all.

His friends at the table are now looking at them oddly, surveying the silence. Jensen forces a smile and pats Jared on the shoulder as he passes to sit back down. “What brings you out amongst the normals?” he jokes. 

“Guys’ night out. Brother and cousins,” he says with a small huff, like it’s fun, yet Jensen can tell it’s forced. 

Danneel twists to look back at the table and grins. The other three Padaleckis aren’t as good looking as Jared, but they’re in the same gene pool and it’s encouraging her, apparently. “Why not bring the guys over?”

“What?” their friends call out in differing measures of bother.

“What, what?” she asks. “We drink with Jared every night we’re on shift, but we can’t tonight?”

“It’s Jensen’s going away night, you moron,” Katie points out, which sets Danneel off to bicker back.

Immediately, Jared cuts into the minor argument. “Don’t worry about it. You guys enjoy your last night together and I’m gonna go back to my table. Forget I was ever here.”

With one last look, Jensen feels Jared’s last line chill him over. 

 

…

 

He hadn’t planned to, but he gets just drunk enough that going to their bar to finish the night seems like the smartest, most sensible idea.

Even smarter and more sensible is talking to Jared when they end up next to each other. “First for everything, huh?” Jensen jokes when he points out they’re actually on the same side of the bar for one.

“Yeah, huh,” Jared says oddly. He bites his lower lip and a dimple pops in his cheek. Jensen somehow manages to keep his finger from reaching for it. “I didn’t think you’d all end up here for the night.”

Jensen looks down into his beer bottle, judging how much he has left. Not much, and he finishes it off. “It’d sounded like a good idea at some point.”

“Some point?”

“Far before I realized that no one bartends like us,” Jensen says, glaring down the bar at Danneel’s friends who are covering for the night. They’re hot enough to be gathering all sorts of attention and tips, and they’re feeding the patrons in the corner shots like they’re never-ending. But they’re obviously not professional enough to share the service.

“Oh, hell with this,” Jensen mutters and then hops up and over the bar. Or that’s what he’d planned before considering how much he’s had to drink so far. He more like slumps over the top, rolls over, and stumbles to his knees on the other side.

“Are you okay?!” Jared shouts over the crowd’s roar of surprise as he leans over to check on Jensen.

Jensen would like to think he pops back up smoothly; he’s aware it’s not all that fast or slick when he gets to his feet and smirks at Jared. At the very least, he has his balance and focus in tact when he looks at Jared’s worried face. “Always wanted to do that.”

“Fall off a bar?” Jared asks with a shocked chuckle.

Jensen brushes that off to spread his arms out along the bar. “So whatcha want? On the house.”

Jared laughs again and aims an obvious look at the bartenders of the night. “I really don’t think you’re able to make calls for _on the house._ anymore”

“Since when did you have morals about free alcohol?” he asks, then switches gears. “But hey, if you’d rather be served by Victoria’s Secret, then go for-”

“No, no, no. Not at all.” He’d said it quickly and seems just as alarmed by it as Jensen is. Even more so at the way he’s grasping Jensen’s wrist. 

Jensen flips his hand to hold Jared’s and tug a little. He smiles when Jared’s fingers wrap around his own. “What do you want?”

Jared shrugs and takes in the multitude of bottles lining the wall behind Jensen. “Something strong, a little bitter.” His eyes drop down to Jensen’s face, as if he’s taking it all in. “And familiar,” he finishes with a minor smile. 

Something tingles down Jensen’s spine and he stutters forward, has designs to pull Jared across the bartop and kiss him, give Jared exactly what he’s asking for. What he’s always wanted. But then Jared’s jostled by excitable customers trying to wedge their way in to be served and the moment’s gone.

The customers nudge Jared out of the way, yet he’s still there, bringing his gaze back to Jensen. “What I really want is to talk to you before you leave.”

“Leave tonight?”

“No, for good.” Jared shifts himself back against the rail. “Before you move.”

“Hey, order or get out of the way!” some guy in an ugly block-patterned button-up, likely barely out of college, insists as he tries to budge Jared from the bar.

“Before I move?” Jensen mumbles, ignoring the idiot. He’s frozen in place. All the ruckus of the excitable, drunken patrons and the jukebox cycling through the newest dance hits fades out and Jensen’s ears buzz. Jared thinks he’s moving, Jared wants to talk before he moves and yet Jensen’s not going anywhere. Suddenly all noise pounds back and he frowns at Jared. “I’m not moving.”

“To KC,” Jared insists. “Sandy said so last week.”

“Sandy?” Jensen’s dazed, feeling unsure on his feet, wondering why Sandy is telling Jared things like this. “I’m not moving,” he repeats. “I’m going to Kendall.”

“Dude, seriously!” the obnoxious frat reject yells.

“The college?” Jared asks, also ignoring the douche.

“Yeah, Kendall College. Gonna get some credits under my belt before transferring to State.”

“KC,” is what Jared mumbles, even as the same idiot is still there, trying to shove Jared out of the way. It doesn’t work; Jared’s pretty fucking big compared to anyone in this place.

“Are you gonna serve us or what?” the guy asks, and Jared and Jensen both yell, “No,” before looking at each other again.

“Can we talk before you leave _tonight_?” Jared asks.

And just because Jensen can’t manage patience anymore, not when it comes to Jared or this bar or the fucking moron still sitting there expecting Jensen to serve him, Jensen steps up onto a shaky shelf behind the bar and moves to hop onto the bar top. Jared holds out a hand for him, an arm to the side to clear space, and then tugs him through the crowd with their hands firmly together.

Once they’re outside, Jared lets go of his hand and swings away from the front door, muttering something about Jensen moving because of him.

“What? Why?” Jensen asks, utterly confused about what Jared’s meaning.

“Because I was still always around the bar, and like you were sick of seeing me all the time. Like you couldn’t ever lose me or something.”

Jensen’s stomach drops, as does nearly every other muscle in his body. He feels sluggish and drained just trying to think up the right response to that. He murmurs, “I can’t,” because it’s so goddamn true. 

Jared frowns and glances away, nodding sadly, and Jensen can’t handle that. He moves right in front of Jared, plants himself in Jared’s space, and stares up into those sad, soulful eyes. 

“It’s like I can’t get rid of you,” Jensen admits. “I turn around and you’re still there.”

“This isn’t helping,” Jared mumbles pathetically.

Jensen chuckles and rings his fingers into the front of Jared’s shirt. Shakes him a little. Smiles a little, too. “You’re stuck in me. I couldn’t lose the feeling of you if I tried. Not sure I want to sometimes.” After a moment Jensen sighs because Jared isn’t showing any signs of comprehension. “Why do you think I kept letting you back to my place?”

“But you said no.”

“I never said no.”

“Yeah, you di-” 

Jensen huffs. “I said a lot of shit, but when you asked, I didn’t say no.”

Jared frowns and huffs. Pulls Jensen’s hands away from his clothes. “You brushed me off on the phone when I said I wanted more, that I wanted everything.”

Jensen bites his lower lip, sighs, and scratches at the scruff along his jaw. He wonders what all would be different if they’d ever understood one another. “I thought I was saying yes, then you showed up at the bar with that stupid not-dating-dating spiel, and you’d moved on.”

“I never moved.”

Just like that, Jensen is spurred to action, taking what’s right in front of him, making it count. He slides his hands over Jared’s neck and tugs, brings him down, and kisses the hell out of him, taking both their breaths away in the process.

They get so lost in it, Jared’s arms wrapped tightly around his back, Jensen’s snug around Jared’s neck, that they both ignore the catcalls of partiers parking in the lot and heading into the bar. They’re so far gone that Jared barely gets out, “Still just fucking around?”

“No bar, no drama,” Jensen pants out once he’s pulled away. He keeps close and breathes heavily, shares the air with Jared. “No more drama, Jared.”

Jared nods and kisses Jensen with wet, smacking lips. He looks over his shoulder to the building then warily at Jensen. “But, we can still come once in a while, right?”

He shrugs in their hold. “I’m guaranteed free drinks so long as Danneel or Tom are behind the bar.”

“So, that’s a yes?”

“Hell yes,” Jensen replies firmly. 

 

_**JARED** _

It’s familiar to come back to Jensen’s house, to stumble through the halls with hands and mouths everywhere, and to fall into his bed. But everything feels different. There’s strange electricity in the air, static flickering all around them, hard breathing echoing off the walls as they tug one another’s shirts off and move towards the bed. 

Jensen seems nervous, even when his moves are sure as he sits at the edge of his bed and tugs on Jared’s belt to bring him closer. 

Jared can’t stop the stirring of nerves, little pricks rising from his toes and through his knees to make him stumble a step, and right up through his chest, which forces his lungs to catch. He shivers when Jensen smoothly undoes his belt, the button and zipper of his jeans, and peels them down to his thighs. He shakes even worse when Jensen skates his hands up Jared’s sides and leans forward to mouth at the head of Jared’s cock pressing hard inside his briefs. 

“Oh God, yeah” Jared mumbles. He sets his hand to the top of Jensen’s head, the other resting on his shoulder so he doesn’t completely fall over with how good this feels. How captivating it is for Jensen to go slow, to take his time and center his attention on Jared. It’s been a long while since Jared’s enjoyed this view, so he plants his feet and sticks with it.

Jensen’s hands slide back down Jared’s body, around his hips, and settle on his ass. His fingers hold softly then grip and pull Jared closer, massage as he tongues over the now-damp dark fabric of Jared’s underwear. Jensen breathes deep and tugs at the sides of the waistband to pull them down. 

Jared looks down to Jensen’s eyes and is shocked to find them soft and wondrous, not dark and needy like so many times before. Jensen closes them after a few long moments and sucks at Jared’s cockhead. All air punches out of Jared’s lungs at the sensation, and he clenches his eyes shut as he rocks on the heels of his feet.

Randomly, because he has to concentrate on something that will allow him to last, Jared asks, “What’re you going to Kendall for?”

Jensen pops off of Jared’s dick and looks up his chest, resting his chin at Jared’s lower abdomen. “Really? Right now?”

Jared fingers the edges of Jensen’s hair, shrugs with a small smile, and Jensen chuckles. 

“Phys Ed,” he replies then takes Jared all the way into his mouth. 

“Oh god, that’s hot,” Jared pants.

Jensen slides off and lazily strokes Jared’s dick as he smirks. “Phys Ed or me taking you down?”

“Both. Or whichever won’t make you stop.”

“Why do you think Phys Ed is hot?” Jensen asks, then licks a positively taunting strip along Jared’s dick. 

Jared shivers and rests both hands on Jensen’s shoulders as he subconscious rocks forward, momentarily losing balance. “You in short shorts? You fucking kidding me?”

“That may have been part of the decision making process.”

“Really?”

“No,” Jensen chuckles, and so does Jared. Suddenly, this easy laughter between them makes it feel natural and back to normal. With the added bonus of real feelings now obvious in Jensen’s eyes when he leans back to stare at Jared. “Come here,” he says, yet it sounds more like a question. As if Jared wouldn’t.

Jensen helps Jared out of his pants and underwear then scoots back on the bed with Jared following. He returns the favor, tugging the slim-fitting, sinful denim down Jensen’s legs. These are definitely a pair he needs to see on Jensen’s ass, in the daylight. Maybe in the morning he’ll ask for that.

And then Jared stalls, hovering over Jensen, who is now completely naked like Jared, and wondering what will happen next. After the sex. After sunrise. 

“You’re always thinkin’ too much,” Jensen chides. He tugs under Jared’s arms and shuffles them to the side so they lie down, facing each other. Running his hand over Jared’s face, Jensen fondly smiles and slides closer. He slips his leg between Jared’s and tilts his hips just right so they’re flushed tight from chests down to feet with ankles curled around the other’s. 

Jared gets lost in it, can’t do anything but kiss and touch back. He doesn’t even try to make a move. He just lets it all unfold around him. He does his best to capture all the tiny sounds from Jensen’s lips, every swirl of his tongue, each twist of his hips.

They’re just moving against one other with hands gliding across every spare, reachable inch of skin, until Jensen tugs Jared closer and the force of it makes Jared roll over and onto Jensen, trapping him between his body and the mattress. Jared rises up on one elbow and stills. He forces himself to watch Jensen’s eyes, dazed and blown wide, flicker across Jared’s face until he smiles up at him. 

This really is like nothing he’s seen before. 

Jared cants his hips forward and Jensen tips his head back with a withered moan. Jared does it again to draw the sound out of him over and over again, just rocking down into Jensen and then sucking along the column of Jensen’s throat, tonguing over the stubble that grows thicker up to his jaw. He feels power here, grabs hold of it, and catapults them forward as he rocks along the groove of Jensen’s hip and bites the hinge of Jensen’s jaw. 

Once Jared feels himself getting close, he reaches between them and palms their dicks together and fucks into the channel of his fingers, along with Jensen. He can barely breathe, but he forces hard kisses from Jensen. He plunges his tongue into Jensen’s mouth and ravages. 

Jared lets it all go and Jensen seems to do the same, allowing Jared’s manic assault so long as they both get off. Which they do. Both with shouts long moments apart, but their heaving chests are pressing tight together as they come down without crashing immediately back to the mattress. 

When Jared’s shoulder shakes from being propped up for so long, he drops down to the side, partially lying across Jensen’s torso, but he doesn’t have the energy to move right now. Maybe in five seconds. Or minutes. 

It turns into hours because next he knows is that the sun is out and light is filtering through the cream curtains of the double window across from him. 

He snuffs a breath as he wakes more, inhaling the dark, salty scent of … Jensen’s armpit, which he is currently camped out in. 

Jared flinches away and when he manages to crack his eyelids fully open, he has Jensen chuckling at him. 

“Good mornin’,” Jensen rumbles, voice thick and sleepy. And very fuckable.

Jared scrubs a hand down his face as he mumbles. “You, too.”

“How’re you feeling?”

He logs his body and comes up with, “Headachy. A little crusty.” He runs a hand over his belly and remembers how they came against each other and then passed out directly after.

Jensen snorts. “You ain’t the only one.”

“At least I don’t stink,” he adds, reliving how he’d woken up.

“You make me work up a sweat, don’t blame me.”

Jared glances up to Jensen’s amused face and winds up smiling, too. It starts to feel like every other morning they’ve woken up to, so he decides to test it. “And I’m hungry.”

“Of course you are, cupcake.” Jensen closes his eyes then spins away to sit at the edge of the bed, scratching the back of his head as he reaches down to grab clothes. Then he tosses a look over his shoulder. “You wanna shower then eat?”

Shower. Jensen’s proposing a shower then food, which is twice as much as he’s ever offered before. “You’re making me breakfast?”

“No,” he insists, swatting Jared with his shirt. “But I’m willing to pay someone to do it for me.”

“I’m in,” Jared says quickly. There’s no way he’ll pass this up. Then his mind and mouth betrays him by asking, “So, we’re really doing this?”

Jensen shifts to look at Jared. “Doing what?”

Jared waves his hand around for a few seconds. “Like showering. And getting food together, and …”

“Like everything?” 

Jensen is smirking and Jared wants to punch him for how easily he’s deflecting real questions and answers. 

As if he can tell Jared’s still hesitant, Jensen angles back towards him, nearly upside down yet right there. “I’d rather trip through everything than nothing at all. So yeah, if you’re up for it, I wanna go shower together like you always wanted, and grab breakfast together like you always need to, and maybe come back here and just hang out or whatever …”

With a small smile, Jared finishes, “Like we never did.”

Jensen shrugs and Jared smirks at him, runs his hand over the scruff of his beard. He even scratches his fingertip through it just because he can. 

“First time for everything,” Jared murmurs. 

Reaching backward, Jensen grabs hold of Jared’s neck and tugs him down, crushing their mouths together. When he lets him go, he clears his throat. “So now you’ve gone from an asshole bartender to an unemployed gym student. How’s it feel?”

Jared can read the hesitancy in Jensen’s mocking. Somehow that makes this moment even better. “Real good,” he mumbles before taking Jensen’s mouth again.


End file.
